


Falling In Love Will Kill You

by PastelGalaxy13



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Character Death, Flashbacks, M/M, Mentions of Frank Iero - Freeform, Overdose, Suicide, mentions of anorexia, mentions of self harm, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:33:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7421872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelGalaxy13/pseuds/PastelGalaxy13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard fell hopelessly in love. That was his first mistake. </p>
<p>Trigger Warning - DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERED EASILY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. West End Kids

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in a while! I've been working a lot and my laptop broke so I had to get it fixed. Expect the final update to Heaven Help Us and more fics to come.

Gerard's fingers curled around the neck of the bottle in his hand, swinging it carelessly as he walked. The hold could have been classified as an angry, aggressive grip, but to Gerard it was desperate, like the lifeline that was the only thing keeping him afloat. The bottle was almost empty, so that said a lot about his current situation. His eyes were lost, scanning the sidewalk as he turned the corner and wandered down an old, familiar street. He counted the number of cement squares that made up the sidewalk, memorizing how far to go. He got to sixteen before he stopped and turned, looking up at the house in front of him. It still looked the same, even though his family had moved out years ago. The siding of the house was white with specks of dust and dirt in between the crevices of each layer, and the door was bright red. The paint was flaking and peeled off around the doorknob, showing a pale blue that he hated. 

He knew how illegal it was to trespass, but at the moment, he didn't really care. He crept up the stairs, surprisingly managing to stay quiet as he crouched down in front of the door. He could hear the faint sound of some shitty game show playing in the background beyond the door, but he couldn't have cared less at that moment. He reached up and traced his fingers along the flaking paint, bringing the bottle up to his lips to take a sip of the burning liquid, setting it down on the porch beside him when he swallowed it down. When his hands were free, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small orange bottle with a white lid. The letters and arrows helped him figure out how to open it, given that his brain was fucked at the moment. When it was finally off, he took out one of the small white tablets and closed the bottle, shoving it back into it's place for safe keeping. He eyed the tablet, taking in the chalky texture and the small numbers on the top. It only took him a few seconds to make his decision and he threw the pill back dry. 

"One," he slurred to himself, turning his body before he sat down against the wall by the door, crossing his legs in front of him. If anyone were to come out, he'd probably be arrested, but he had a feeling he'd be fine. Even if he wasn't, he didn't care, he didn't care about a lot lately. When he managed to get comfortable, he dropped his head against his knees and closed his eyes, letting his brain morph into a familiar, dream like picture to help him get away for the moment. 

~

JULY 1  
A boy, about seven, stands in the front yard of his house, covered in red paint as he watches his father pour more paint from the bucket, back into the small aluminum pallet. There are rolling brushes that look like they’ve been doused in blood, but Gerard knows what real blood looks like, he’s seen it in movies. 

“Gee, I’m ready,” Gerard’s father calls from the porch, getting the boy’s attention. He stopped dragging the toe of his shoe in the grass and nods quickly, running back up onto the porch. As soon as he reaches the first step, his eyes catch another boy peeking around the side of his house, causing Gerard to stop and trip, hands blinding catching himself on the third step. His eyes leave the corner for only a second, but when his father finally gets him up and helps him walk the pain off, he looks back over and the boy is gone.

“Daddy! There’s someone watching me!” He cries, pushing behind his father’s legs and holding onto the fabric of the worn, paint-covered jeans. His father rubs over his stubbled chin and takes Gerard’s hand. 

“Well, why don’t we go check it out then? I’m sure it’s just that creative imagination of yours,” The man says, leading a reluctant boy across the yard towards the side of the house. When they get there, no one is in sight and Gerard blinks, looking around with wide eyes. 

“He was right-” Before Gerard can finish, there’s a rustle from the bush against the house and he cries out, startled, and runs across the yard so that he’s away from the bush, “I told you!” 

Donald hums softly and looks back at Gerard before he nods and slowly crouches down, crawling across the grass. When he gets to the bush, he peeks in between the branches and notices another boy hiding with his head covered. Donald looks back at Gerard and Gerard makes a noise, but his father gives him a reassuring nod and slowly begins to part the branches. The boy behind the bushes’ eyes shoot open and he gasps, not sure where to go because he’s been caught. Donald just gives a laugh, and then looks back at Gerard, “You’re safe, Gee, I’m sure he’s not going to hurt you,” he smiles. Gerard gives a wary look and stays back as he watches his father held the terrified looking boy out of the bushes. 

“What’s your name?” His father asks the boy, and Gerard crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly upset. 

“Why’re you watching me?” He cried suddenly, making the boy jump and blush a deep shade of red. He looked like he was ready to bolt, but Gerard learned from his mother that no one gets away unless they answer your questions in full. 

Donald gives Gerard a disapproving look then, and Gerard’s thoughts quickly change and he ducks his head. He watches through his hair as the boy switches from foot to foot, nervous and red in the face. 

“I-I… My house is over there,” The boy says, pointing back behind Gerard’s house, across the long stretch of yard to where the back of other houses could be seen on the other block, “I saw you playing outside one day. There’s no other boys ‘round here to play with, my mom said to come say ‘hi’, but I got scared.” 

Donald just smiles and looks at Gerard. “See? He’s not going to hurt you, Gee. He just wants a friend,” he looks back at the boy, “What’s your name?” 

Gerard stays quiet, blushing slightly as he makes a small noise and listens to the other boy as he begins to speak, “I’m Frank. My mom calls me Frankie, but only she can call me that,” he says, his voice a little more confident. Gerard doesn’t say anything for a long time, just watches as the toe of his shoe draws small patterns in the grass. Finally, the boy looks up and uncrosses his arms. 

“How come only she can call you Frankie?” He asks. It’s a strange thing to ask, as it was the first thing he’s said to Frank yet, but Gerard doesn’t really have a grasp on what’s acceptable and not. 

Frank is quiet for a few seconds before he tilts his head and shrugs, “Because I’m the man of the house, and Frankie is too girly. I’ve gotta be strong, and Frank is strong.” 

Gerard blinks for a second and his father gives a laugh, “I’m going to leave you two alone. It’ll be good for you to have a friend around here. It’ll help you adjust to the new house,” Donald points out, and Gerard looks up to say something, but his father is already walking back to the front of the house. 

The boy bites his lip and makes a soft sound, rocking his body slightly as he tries to think of something to say. He comes up blank and decides on something to keep them busy, “You wanna come help me and my dad paint our door? It’s going to be red.” He tries. He watches Frank’s face contort in confusion for a second before it lights up and he’s smiling. The smile makes Gerard’s face heat up and his stomach twist slightly. 

“Yeah!” Frank cheers, and Gerard nods nervously. He looks at Frank once more before he squeaks and starts running towards the front of the house again. He’s trying to run away, but he remembers Frank’s going to help them paint the door now, so he lets him follow and they race up the porch, laughing together.


	2. Shut Up And Kiss Me

When Gerard opened his eyes, he was still sitting on the porch of his old house. He could still hear the sound of the same show playing in the background and it felt like no time had passed. He looked around and wiped the back of his hand over his forehead and eyes, pushing his hair back out of his face. Finally, he clammered to his feet and pushed himself up, grabbing onto the railing as he made his way back down the steps. He felt like he was swaying, but as soon as his feet were planted flat on the cement, he was walking again. He didn’t give himself time to stop, he couldn’t, he was pressing for time as it was. 

He shivered slightly, the sparkling glow of the moon shining down over him as if it were a spotlight and Gerard were the main performer, at least that’s what it felt like. He had a terrible case of stage fright, so it made him feel even worse and bring the bottle back up to his lips, swallowing more liquid. His Adam’s Apple bobbed and he got the alcohol down, but it still stung. 

Gerard walked back through the neighborhood, slowly creeping his way past sleeping homes and silent street corners. He felt like he wasn’t even real, like he was walking through the worst nightmare, but he couldn’t find the strength to wake himself up or stop his body from acting before he was able to think about them. The world around him seemed to rush by in nothing but a blur, and he didn’t realize where he was going until his tired feet lead him across the white crosswalk and into the old middle school parking lot. His eyes were blank as he let them scan the building and the lot.

He continued to pad his way across the blacktop, making sure the bottoms of his sneakers didn’t hit the white lines that formed the parking spaces themselves. He counted each line he walked over, taking note of the way the paint was fading and the small divots were showing through. He continued until he found himself standing in the middle of the practice field behind the school, scanning the area until his eyes found the field house. He stuffed his free hand into his pocket and started across the grass. 

When his feet met another long strip of cement, he looked up and gently kicked the wall of the house. He turned and took a breath, looking over the image in front of him. The grass was overgrown and the lines on the field looked fresh. The goal stood high, the scoreboard behind it call another image to the front of his brain. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall, taking the bottle of tablets out of his pocket once more. 

“Twelve,” He murmured, spilling that exact amount into his palm before he shoved them down his throat without even thinking about it this time. He swallowed roughly and used some of the liquor to wash it down, taking a breath after. He blinked slowly and let his head fall back against the brick, closing his eyes again. 

~

APRIL 12  
Two boys sit together under a field house overhang, rolling a skateboard back and forth between them. One has a sketchbook in his lap and the other can’t sit still long enough to be a model. 

“Frank,” Gerard complains, dropping his pencil back onto the pad in his lap. He gives Frank a disappointed look, frustration present in his eyes, “You said you’d help me with my project. You’re not doing a very good job.” 

Frank sighs heavily and rolls the skateboard back over to Gerard, who stops it and rolls it back, “I’m sorry, just, sitting here doing nothing is so boring. I’ve been sitting here for like, three hours.” 

Gerard rolls his eyes and scoffs, “You’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes,” he corrects, shifting in his position before he set his sketchbook down and pushes himself up to stretch, “But nice try.” 

Frank grins and pushes himself up, pulling the skateboard towards himself by his foot and hopping on. He uses his foot to propel himself forward and in seconds is skating down the long strip of cement, turning around and repeating the action when he reaches the end. After a few seconds, he looks up at Gerard. 

“Can you believe we’re almost adults?” He asks, grabbing onto the front of Gerard’s shirt for a second when he passes. Gerard blinks and tilts his head, giving Frank a confused look as he laughs. 

“Adults? We’re not even close to adults, we’re only going into high school. We still have like, four years to go,” He says, dipping down to pick his sketchbook up off the ground and set it on the small table where they usually keep the condiments for hot dogs and hamburgers during a game. 

Frank just snorts and crosses his arms, making standing on a moving board look easy. Gerard never would have made it even a foot without falling, they’ve tried, he just can’t get it, “I’m an adult. I do adult things,” He says, making Gerard laugh out loud. 

“Like what?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, “You’re the littlest person I know, you can’t be an adult.” 

Frank huffs, and glares at Gerard for a second, going back to focusing on skating, “I’ve done plenty of adult stuff. Like sex, I’ve had sex before,” Gerard’s eyes almost bug out of his head and he has to catch himself before he falls. 

“You what?” He asks, furrowing his brows slightly. He thinks for a second, feeling his heart drop slightly. They’re supposed to be best friends, and Frank never told him, “Well, with who?” He asks, looking back up. 

Frank shrugs, grinning slightly as he rolls back in Gerard’s direction, “A lot of people, do you really need specifics?” He asks. Gerard fights his eyes from widening again, shaking his head to clear it. Frank watches with amusement in his eyes, humming, “I bet you’ve never even kissed someone,” He teases. 

Gerard blinks and blushes, his eyes finding Frank once more, “What? Of course I have,” He says, frowning slightly until he sees Frank jump off of his skateboard and turn towards him with a smirk. 

“Oh yeah? Then who?” He asks, starting towards Gerard and making the other boy blush even deeper, stepping back. Gerard tries to fish through his brain for a quick answer, but before he can respond, he finds himself pressed against the wall, Frank crowding his personal space. Frank’s hands are braced against the wall on either side of Gerard, their bodies almost touching. It’s not like Gerard’s not used to them being close, they’ve been best friends for almost seven years, they’ve slept in each other’s beds before. This is just new, it feels different. Gerard turns his eyes away from Frank’s neck, and then his lips, and meets his eyes. They seem so close, he feels like Frank is getting closer but he can’t tell. When Gerard doesn’t reply, Frank smirks and tilts the boy’s head up, cupping his jaw and brushing his thumb against the pink stain on the other’s cheek, “I told you. You would have said something, I know you.” 

Gerard’s breath is coming in short, silent gasps, ghosting across Frank’s chin and lips. He’s so close and Gerard’s pretty sure he might pass out. His lips part and he shivers, not even realizing that he’s pressing into Frank’s hand. Frank watches the other boy with eager eyes, licking over his own lips, “Let me show you what it’s like,” He whispers. 

Gerard still hasn’t looked away, but his breathing has stopped and his lips are parted. He’s not really sure how to respond, It’s almost like he can’t. After what feels like ages, the boy finally works up the nerve to nod, and just like that he sees something flicker in Frank’s eyes that makes his stomach twist. 

Frank nods and looks down at Gerard’s lips for a few seconds, just looking at them before he wraps his free arm around the other’s waist and pulls him forward, pressing their bodies together and just like that their lips are touching. He feels a noise slip past Gerard’s lips and against his own, but it seems like he’s able to relax faster than Frank would have thought. Soon, both of Frank’s arms are around Gerard and Gerard’s fingers are twisted into the fabric of the other’s shirt, holding him close. 

They moves in unison, and Gerard feels like he’s in heaven, if heaven exists. Everything is so warm and just right. When Frank pulls back, it doesn’t feel like the kiss was long enough, but he’s out of breath and his lashes flutter against his cheeks before his eyes open slowly. When he looks up at Frank, the other boy’s eyelids are still closed and he looks like he soaking up the energy between them. 

Gerard just smiles, and he knows the feelings stirring inside him. He presses their foreheads together and they stand like that for some time, basking in the presence of each other.


	3. The Collision Of Your Kiss That Made It So Hard

Gerard doesn’t remember picking himself up from the cement and starting across the field, but he doesn’t really have a problem with it. He’s floating, or that’s how it feels. He feels like he’s been walking through a dream the last few hours, because it doesn’t really matter. He knows where he’s going, he doesn’t need to focus on how he’s getting there. 

The bottle is empty by now, so he swings it around like it’s a baton, though it doesn’t work as well as he thinks it is. He doesn’t have a clear grasp on reality, and it makes things just a little better. He crosses the parking lot again and starts down a side street that’s vaguely familiar, but not one he travels very often. He’s only been down it once or twice, but it’s a special street. He doesn’t have to make any turns or follow any complicated directions, he just has to walk and he’s in his pocket again, fishing the bottle out. 

“Three,” He whispers to himself, following a procedure that’s almost automatic now. He tosses the pills back, and it’s difficult with his dry mouth but he manages all the same. He continues down the street, and suddenly he can feel the warmth of the sun on a Tuesday, the Spring air surrounding him. 

~

JUNE 3  
They’re headed down a street Frank had only been on twice with his friends. Frank’s skating ahead of Gerard, but always turning around to skate back so he’s not too far behind. Gerard has his thumbs hooked in the straps of his backpack, frowning slightly. He’s been complaining the entire walk, but Frank just ignores him because he knows the dark haired boy will go anywhere with him. 

“Frank, I’m going to get into trouble again. My parents said straight home and that’s it,” Gerard says quickly, but Frank zooms past him and makes his friend squeak and duck his head, but follow all the same.

Frank smirks and looks back as his board makes a semicircle and is on it’s way back towards Gerard. “How will they know? They work all the time,” He comments, and Gerard thinks this note over, deciding that Frank knew best so he would go along with whatever his best friend had planned. They walk in silence for a while, but then Gerard jumps at the sound of Frank’s voice. It startles him and makes his head snap up. 

“So,” Frank says, making sure that the word comes out and lasts a little longer than it normally would. His voice was teasing and amused, and it made Gerard nervous, “I know a secret.” This makes Gerard’s stomach start to twist and his interest heighten. Gerard loved when Frank told him secrets, he loved to hear about the drama and about the misfortune of other people rather than focusing on his own. 

“What’s the secret? Who’s fucking who?” Gerard asks, obviously eager. He watches Frank look back with raised eyebrows, an amused smirk on his face. Gerard blinks and went quiet, trying to get rid of the uneasy feeling running through his stomach. Frank’s serious now and he jumps off of his board, letting it roll across the street and hit a curb so hard that it jumps up and flips into the grass of someone’s yard, “Frank?” Gerard asks, but Frank’s pulling his bag off of his shoulders and kneeling down, fishing through the front pocket of his bag. It only takes him a few seconds to find what he needs to, and then he pulls a prescription bottle out of his bag. 

“What is this?” Frank asks, opening the bottle and offering it to Gerard, showing him the group of blades gathered together to fit inside. There’s an abundance, more than any person should have. No one should even have one, but Gerard’s bottle is full and he’s trying to figure out how Frank got it. It’s like Frank can read his mind, because then he frowns and closes the bottle again, “I found it in your room when you were showering the other morning,” He mumbles, biting his lip hard, “I needed to ask you.” 

Gerard’s breath is coming in short gasps and he isn’t sure if his eyes burn from looking at the blades, or Frank’s reaction. Frank looks more concerned about this than Gerard’s ever seen him about anything before. It’s almost bittersweet, because even though it kills him to see the pain in Frank’s eyes, at least he knows someone cared. Tears swell in Gerard’s eyes and he turns away, almost like he’s ready to run, but Frank grabs his bag and pulls him back, an arm wrapping around his waist to keep him from going anywhere. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or why haven’t you come to me?” Frank’s voice is shaking and it cracks, that only makes Gerard cover his mouth to muffle a choked noise but it still makes it’s way from his lips. Frank drops the bottle and his own bag before he tugs Gerard with him to the curb, “Take off your bag, come here.” 

Gerard tries to see Frank through his tears, but it’s almost impossible to move or do anything so Frank helps him. He drops the backpack on the ground and doesn’t even bother sitting down, he just wraps his arm around Gerard’s waist and pulls him close, cradling the back of his head while Gerard cries into his chest. 

Frank starts to see what’s actually happening, why Gerard doesn’t eat around people, or he only eats a little at a time, why he never wears anything but hoodies and jeans, why he doesn’t let Frank see him without clothes. Frank shakes his head and presses a kiss to his best friend’s head, taking a deep breath as Gerard clutches his shirt tightly in between his finger, “I would have helped you,” He whispers gently. 

Gerard doesn’t know what else to say, so he just pushes his face into Frank’s neck and squeaks out the only thing he knows isn’t a lie, “I love you. I’m sorry,” He whimpers, expecting the same reply he always gets. 

Frank takes a deep breath and bites his lip hard, looking down at Gerard with sad eyes. He opens his mouth to reply, but he exhales heavily and closes his eyes. He presses his lips together and tilts Gerard’s head up before he silently presses a kiss to his forehead and replies with nothing more. 

When Gerard doesn’t get a reply, he’s pretty sure his whole world is starting to collapse around him. Why doesn’t Frank say it back this time? Did Gerard push him too far? Gerard is just too broken for Frank to love anymore. That’s what it is. He holds back a sob and squeezes his eyes shut, not moving and silent. He isn’t sure what to do at this point, neither of them are, so they just stand there, Frank holding Gerard as he cries for an entirely different reason than the issue at hand. He doesn’t care about the blades or the scars or the empty stomach. Frank doesn’t love him, that’s what kills him.


End file.
